Chapter 25 Say The Words #2
As his knees hit the floor, I found myself whispering—prayers, wishes, encouragements, all wrapped in his name.
Moonlight shimmered over the raven waves of his hair, and I was hypnotized by the beauty of it, by the sight of his head between my thighs, by the naked desire in his ocean eyes when they traveled up to meet mine.
The tiniest quirk at the edge of his mouth spoke of a dark knowledge, like he knew exactly where he was about to take me while I wasn’t sure whether we were climbing to paradise or descending to the most wicked circle of the underworld.
With a single teasing swipe of his tongue, my whole body shuddered in pleasure, and a terrible, wonderful truth dropped a curtain over my reality: I couldn’t tell the difference between heaven and hell.
This was torture and ecstasy. Fire and rapture.
He made me want to open wider and shut down forever.
But he gave me no choice. He subdued my body the same way he had for months—with deft proficiency.
Lucas Scott was a master at getting what he wanted from me, and when the euphoria climbed my spine and escaped my mouth in a cry shaped like his name, he didn’t stop.
He kept up the soft rhythm until a second, stronger wave crashed over me.
Heart fluttering, lungs breathless, every thought scattered in the wake of the pleasure.
I was barely aware of his heat retreating, but I reacted on instinct to keep him close.
Still tingling in every nerve ending, I jerked to sitting and gripped his shirt.
Standing between my spread legs, he relented to my wild kiss.
He still tasted of peppermint, but now he also tasted of me, and that lit a new flame deep inside.
This time, my fingers worked the buttons of his shirt without fumbling, and I ripped it from his body. He stood tall while I pressed my palms to every ripple of muscle, every jagged scar, and finally the hard ridge still hidden by his clothes.
I loosened his belt. Unbuttoned his pants. Tugged them away until he stood before me in nothing but his tented boxers. Tipping forward to kiss his chiseled abdomen, I coaxed him closer. Fingers tangled in my hair as I pulled him free of the cotton, my hand gripping him at the base.
I glanced up, but I was unprepared for the open hunger, the raw adoration on his face. Deep in my belly, the flame blazed, and a new, insistent throb woke between my legs. His fingers trailed down the turn of my jaw, thumb brushing over my lips before exerting pressure on my chin to open my mouth.
Obediently, I leaned forward to lick a bead of liquid from his tip, and the hand in my hair tightened.
I allowed myself a small smile as I took him into my mouth, slow and deep, letting him suffer the same as he had done to me.
I relished possessing this power over his pleasure.
So often, he held the upper hand, but with this, I owned him.
I felt his gaze on me as I worked, and I hoped this would ink a tattoo into his mind.
I wanted this to be the image that surged the next time he wrapped his own hand around himself, seeking release.
As the minutes passed, my throat relaxed, and I let him sink deeper, then deeper still.
He grew even stiffer in my hand, and I sensed him try to pull back, but I took more of him instead.
His breathing went ragged, and an involuntary whine of protest escaped my throat as he jerked away before he came. He cupped my jaw in one hand, forcing me to look up at him. I licked the salty taste of him from my lips.
His gaze followed my tongue. “You like that?”
I nodded. I’d wanted him to succumb to me, wanted to watch him give in solely because of what I was doing to him.
“You’ll like this next part more. Lie back.”
Nerves alight with anticipation, I did as he asked, my legs still dangling off the edge of the bed.
He spread them wide, then braced his weight on one elbow and slipped the other hand between my thighs again, right to the place that throbbed hardest. He drew tight feathery circles, and I sucked in a breath at the shimmery waves of ecstasy that rocketed me to the edge within seconds.
Need pounded inside—to be invaded, filled, to have him.
My legs wrapped around him, a desperate bid to pull him closer, but he waited.
He tortured me.
Circle, circle, circle.
My breath came in pants, and I reached blindly for him, my mouth reckless and messy against his.
“Please,” I begged. “Please. Now.”
Just as the waves began to crest, he pushed inside.
Sunlight dawned with rays of pleasure, and I threw my head back with a thankful moan.
I rode out the orgasm on his steady rhythm, my nails buried into his back, pulling him right against my chest. With just a few more thrusts, he found his own climax, spilling his pleasure onto my breasts.
While our foreheads pressed together, his rapid breathing mixed with mine, and my mouth sought his again.
The kiss was softer now, lazier, and he stayed there for long minutes, savoring.
I grew drowsy in his embrace, and when he finally pulled away, it was only to retrieve a towel.
He wiped up the mess he’d made—both on my chest and between my legs—and coaxed me back into my usual spot in the bed, where I curled onto my side.
He slipped behind me, pulling me deep into his arms.
“Will you sleep?” I asked, remembering his haunted look from when I’d first woken.
“You’re the one who needs sleep. Don’t worry about me.”
“I always worry about you, Lucas.”
His hand slid up my stomach to rest between my breasts, over my heart. “I’m right here, sweetheart. Just rest.”
I gripped his forearm, my thumb brushing over the ridges of the brands there. Quiet descended, but before I fell asleep, I whispered his name.
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry if something bad happened tonight.”
He pressed a long kiss on my shoulder. “You happened tonight. That’s all that matters.”